


Putting the Dog to Sleep

by leahsmindpalace



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Combeferre shows up for like a second, Heavy Angst, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Relapsing, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leahsmindpalace/pseuds/leahsmindpalace
Summary: Grantaire is struggling to find muse for his art.Title from The Antlers song of the same name.





	Putting the Dog to Sleep

You're drinking again?" Grantaire hears his boyfriend say and turns around swiftly to see the blonde god leaning against the wall of the small room he called his art studio.

 

He scoffs, taking another drink and turning back around to stare ahead at the blank canvas. "What's it to you?"

 

He hears Enjolras sigh deeply and a tinge of guilt hits him. "I'm dissapointed, that's all."

 

"That's what you always say. You try to guilt me into quitting by saying you aren't angry. Just dissapointed. So?" He retorts. "I just need to…to paint something. This will help." 

 

"I could help. But now your liver is going to rot." Enj huffs a bit, pitiful laughter in the air between them and Grantaire closes his eyes and just listens. Just listens. "And you're going to die." 

 

"And what if I die?" Grantaire grumbles, smiling bitterly.

 

"Don't you dare, R…" Enjolras warns.

 

"I'm sorry…I just still have so many questions, you know?" R says and just after that Combeferre's disembodied and modulated voice rings through the room from the other side of the door and replaces Enjolras' immediately. "Grantaire?" 

 

"Everything's fine." R replies quickly, eyes darting back to the canvas, and when Ferre's footsteps fade he mumbles under his breath to Enjolras once again. "Everyone's so concerned about me today, it seems." 

 

"Why wouldn't we be? You're pathetic. Look at yourself. We can smell it oozing out of your pores. And you can't even paint? What, have you lost your 'muse'?" Enjolras says, his tone some cruel cocktail of softness and teasing. "Or has something happened?" 

 

"Oh, fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" Grantaire stands up, ready to throw the almost-empty bottle at his boyfriend before he sees him just standing there, smiling a bit. He sees the way his eyes crinkle at the edges like they do when he wears this little half-smirk. He can't bear to even look at him like this. 

 

"What questions do you have?" He asks softly after a moment, leaning against the wall. 

 

"Did it…" stops, feeling himself start to tremble again. "Did it hurt to die? Were you scared?" 

 

To this Enjolras shrugs. "I don't know, baby. I'm just saying what you want to hear."

**Author's Note:**

> So if you didn't pick it up Enjolras is dead. I wrote this at like 4:00 am while listening to Putting the Dog to Sleep by The Antlers and it made me want to write something that matched.


End file.
